


I Need You

by SteveRogerThat



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Awesome Shuri (Marvel), Bucky Barnes Recovering, Developing Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/M, I Don't Even Know, POV Female Character, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, T'Challa (Marvel) Is a Good Bro, Wakanda (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 19:28:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16001759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteveRogerThat/pseuds/SteveRogerThat
Summary: “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”  Shuri’s eyes light up and dart between T’Challa and Nakia.T’Challa shakes his head good-naturedly.  “I’m never thinking what you’re thinking.”“The White Wolf,” Shuri whispers, barely containing her excitement...The look on your face is one of pure confusion, and even T’Challa can’t help but beam at your quizzical response.  “I think the best thing we can do is to take a walk down to meet the White Wolf, and you can see for yourself whether he’d be a good fit for your project.”





	I Need You

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to be honest: I'm not entirely sure where I want this story to go. It may be a one-shot, or it may turn into something with chapters. All I know is that this idea has been buzzing around in my brain, and I managed to type it out. We'll see what happens from here on out.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Shuri’s eyes light up and dart between T’Challa and Nakia. 

T’Challa shakes his head good-naturedly. “I’m never thinking what you’re thinking.”

“The White Wolf,” Shuri whispers, barely containing her excitement. 

“No. Absolutely not.” You watch the handsome, young monarch as he rises from his throne, but Nakia places her hand across his arm. Stopped in his tracks, T’Challa stares at her, and his hard-lined face softens. 

“Let her finish,” Nakia encourages. At this suggestion, T’Challa sighs and slumps back down in his seat, and while you still feel honored to be in the presence of royalty, your nerves ease at seeing this more human side of the king. 

“As I was saying,” Shuri resumes, enunciating each word carefully as if to needle her brother, “the White Wolf would be perfect. You need help designing a curriculum that addresses trauma in at-risk students, right?”

You nod enthusiastically. “Yes, we have psychologists and therapists, but I’d like some input from someone who’s in recovery as well.”

Shuri pops out of her seat, her enthusiasm bursting forth like fireworks. “And who knows trauma better than that sad, white boy?” 

You raise your hand tentatively, unsure of what proper Wakandan manners dictate when it comes to speaking to the king and princess. As if reading your mind, Nakia grins at you, gesturing for you to lower your hand. 

“You don’t need to do that,” Nakia offers. “What were you going to say?”

“I don’t want to seem ungrateful,” you say, glancing at Shuri, “but I don’t know if a boy would be the best individual to assist with curriculum design…”

Shuri bursts into a flurry of laughter and waves her hands. “No, no, he’s not really a boy. He’s actually, like, a hundred years old.”

The look on your face is one of pure confusion, and even T’Challa can’t help but beam at your quizzical response. “I think the best thing we can do is to take a walk down to meet the White Wolf, and you can see for yourself whether he’d be a good fit for your project.”

As you follow Nakia, T’Challa, and Shuri out of the throne room, the statuesque members of the Dora Milaje walk closely next to you, in front of you, and behind you. They need not say anything to convey their power, and although they intimidate you, you are more impressed by their graceful command and authority. The bright sunlight blinds you when you exit the palace, and as you grow accustomed to the outdoors, it is dizzying to consider the sequence of events that have brought you here.

You met Nakia when you were studying abroad at university, and her kindness and sense of fun made you fast friends. You spent the semester nearly inseparable, and while you knew she came from a wealthy, important family in Wakanda, you never gave much thought to her background. You merely knew that she was always down to have a pint at the pub or sit with you in the library and slide notes across the table, making you laugh instead of study.

You’d done your best to keep in touch over the years with the occasional text or email, but you wouldn’t say that you were as close as you once were during those few months at Oxford. So imagine your surprise when Nakia called you last year and offered you a job you couldn’t refuse: a curriculum coordinator for a new school she was opening in Oakland. You’d been working as a teacher for a few years now, and while you loved being with your students, you knew you wanted to have a greater impact than what you were afforded in the classroom. You jumped at the opportunity, packed your bags for California, and that was the start of this wild ride, one filled with shock at every turn. It was the first time you worked in a school that was completely funded; anything and everything your students and staff needed were at your disposal, from school supplies to the latest in technology. And it was the first time you learned that you were an employee of the Wakandan royal family. And it was the first time where you felt like you could focus not just on the academic well-being of these students, but with the plethora of resources at your fingertips, also focus on helping them with their social-emotional issues as well. One more phone call to Nakia was all it took, and you were on a plane, this time headed for Wakanda. 

“Do you know who Captain America is?” Nakia asks, falling back from Shuri and T’Challa so she’s at your left. 

“Yes, of course.”

“And so you know about Sergeant Barnes, formerly known as the Winter Soldier.”

The words linger in the air, and a chill descends upon you, causing you to shiver in spite of the heat. “Yes, I remember the reports.” Suddenly, all the puzzle pieces click into place, and you turn to stare at Nakia. “Sergeant Barnes is the White Wolf?” 

“Yes,” Shuri interrupts. She keeps pace with T’Challa, and instead, walks backwards, facing both you and Nakia. “But he prefers to be called Bucky. I’ve been working with him regularly since he came to live here, and I can assure you that whatever Hydra implanted into his brain has been long removed by yours truly.”

You give her a small, closed smile. “Well, if I can trust anyone to do an excellent job, it’s definitely you.” 

“You hear that?” Shuri hits T’Challa on his arm. “She thinks I’m doing a better job than you,” she teases. 

T’Challa looks over your shoulder at you, and a burst of pure embarrassment rushes its way from your toes to your cheekbones. “My sister is what the kids like to call ‘extra’. Please ignore her,” he suggests lightheartedly. 

“There.” Your eyes follow Nakia’s hand as you stand at the top of a series of gently rolling hills. “He lives in that cottage.”

Your quick pace slows when you make your descent, and whether it’s because you’d rather not take a spill in front of a powerhouse monarchy or because the thought of meeting the once-Winter Soldier still frightens you, you’re not entirely certain. You focus your attention on Shuri and T’Challa, following them down to the field where they come to a full stop. 

“Bucky!” Shuri shouts, leaning down to pet one of the many goats scattered in front of the humble dwelling. 

T’Challa glances at Shuri, his eyes narrowed. “Is that necessary?”  


“Centenarians are notoriously hard of hearing, Brother.”

Nakia stifles a laugh as the distinct sound of rustling comes from within the house. A muscular arm pushes aside the door covering, and your eyes sweep over the large, thick figure that exits. His appearance is remarkably different than when you’d seen him dominating the news cycle. A haphazard bun pulls his long, dark hair away from his face, revealing a scruffy, albeit sharp, jawline, and his blue eyes pierce yours. You couldn’t look away if you wanted to, and when he approaches, a flush creeps over your skin, and you pull your blazer closer, covering your collarbone in an effort to hide your visceral reaction. 

“You called?” His eyes break free of yours, and he turns to Shuri. And as you stand there, lifting your hand to shade yourself from the sun’s direct hit, the combination of his low, slightly graveled voice and mildly playful tone is surprising to say the least. 

Stepping forward, Nakia takes charge of introductions, and the sensation that overcomes you is similar to being trapped under a rolling wave, where you can see everything with crystal clarity, but the voices blend together into a muffled hum. Your eyes meet his once more when he extends his hand out towards you, and as you take it, feeling his warm, calloused palm against yours, your hearing returns. 

“…And she was wondering if you’d like to help her out,” Nakia finishes. “What do you say?”

Aside from the bleating goats, it’s quiet as he considers this offer. While you watch his brow furrow in thought, you secretly hope he says ‘yes’ and simultaneously hope he replies ‘no,’ if only to avoid your body’s betrayal when in his presence. 

“Say yes,” Shuri prompts.

A hint of a smile plays around his lips, and when he says ‘yes,’ his mischievous grin shakes loose something inside you, and all you can think is _Oh shit._

**Author's Note:**

> He probably smells like goat and sweat, and I don't even care-- I want this man.  
> 


End file.
